Beginnings and Endings
by funhousefreak
Summary: Everyone is familiar with the cute, adorable, carefree Gir. But what if that is not how Gir actually feels? What if one could get his side of story? Rated T for dark themes and (possibly) language. Reviews are appreciated!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I wrote this story based on several comments Jhonen Vasquez made during the DVD commentary n the episode "Bestest Friend." He said that Gir is simply "trapped in a cute body" and only wants to die. This sparked an idea in my head, and thus,this story was born! I know this is a very strange and dark take on Gir, but I just wanted to depict him from a perspective closer to what Jhonen originally had in mind. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy!

Chapter One: Where to Start?

I do not know where to start. The logical place would be at the beginning—the beginning of my existence. That would explain why I am who I am today. But that seems too ordinary, too mundane, and I am neither of those. So I will start at the ending—the ending of my existence.

~(*)~

It was a particularly normal winter day. Snow was falling down upon the roof that covered my head, and upon the city that lay beyond my quiet suburbs. Well, _our_ suburbs, I should say. And they certainly were not always quiet. Anyways, today was nothing special. As I understood it, it was late December, only several days away from Christmas. My… _master_ kept a calendar up in our kitchen which counted down the days until Christmas, starting with the number twelve. He loathed the holiday, after his attempt to teleport every human to the Massive to be enslaved—just another brilliant part of his _mission_.

Now, before I continue, I must say something in regards to my _master_: he was dumb, or at least very naïve. It had been seven years since we had first arrived here. For years I had been under the illusion that the mission the Tallest had given him was real, that he was truly supposed to be the conqueror of this planet. But over time, as I stood beside him and watched every one of his plans fail, or be thwarted by his _dear friend_ with the big head, I realized that he would never complete his mission. At first, this concerned me. But then I remembered all his calls to the Tallest, reporting his latest attempts at conquering this "spinning ball of dirt." They never seemed to care that his plans failed; in fact, by the look in their eyes, it seemed to me like they were expecting his plans to fail. This caused me to deduce the truth: there was no mission—no _real_ mission, anyways. The Tallest had lied to him. He was incompetent, and they knew that. I had always known that they hated him, but this realization made everything crystal clear. They had set him up to fail, so they would never have to deal with him again.

Anyways, now that that is established, back to that December day. I was sitting on the couch, watching _The_ _Scary Monkey Show_. I was at peace with myself for once, as I had diverted all thoughts from my head; also, to keep them at bay, I had put on this mindless television show. When I first arrived on Earth, this show had been the one thing keeping me sane—well, sane enough. It had calmed me by erasing all thoughts from my head, which I needed to do if I was going to continue living. However, now it was like a drug. I had become addicted to it, with its mind-numbing qualities and pointlessness.

Once I had finally entered a blissful state of numbness, I leaned back on the couch, resting my metal head against the pink fabric. But it was not long before I heard an angry growl elicited from somewhere in the kitchen. I sat forward and looked into the other room, which had no door to separate itself from the living room. I regretted looking the moment I did. My cyan eyes caught sight of a very short, very angry green figure who looked prepared to strangle me. I just stared at him, an absent look on my face.

"GIR!" he screamed in his high-pitched voice. It was a voice that had always irked me, and I restrained myself—with much effort—from twitching my left eye at the sound of it. "Why aren't you guarding the house? Those horrid singing drones could arrive at any moment and bombard our house with _disgusting_ yuletide carols!"

I internally sighed, thinking to myself that I _was_ guarding the house, seeing as the front door was within my peripheral vision from my placement on the couch; therefore, I would notice if someone entered. I knew arguing with him was no use, though, so I decided to pretend as if I had not been paying attention.

"I wanna taco!" I screamed, causing my _master_ to roll his eyes and shake his head in annoyance.

"Just do as I say, GIR!" he yelled. He then turned around and stormed away, disappearing from my view. I heard him open the lid of the trashcan next to the kitchen counter, which was actually an elevator down to his secret base. Then, I counted to twenty to ensure he was far enough below the main house that he would not be able to hear me.

"I feel like `splodin," I said to myself in my obnoxiously high-pitched, childlike voice. I hardly sounded anything like a threatening robot. But, then again, I wasn't designed to be such a thing—only to appear as one. Over the years, I had adjusted to speaking this way. At first I had only done it to divert people's attention from my misery, which worked remarkably well. But after a while, I decided to make it my permanent voice.

However, my voice was not the only annoying, overly-happy thing about me—it was my whole way of life. Nonetheless, it did obscure the truth from people, even though I am sure no one would have cared if I had expressed my true feelings; so, I ended up accepting it, just like my voice. I acted like I was a child with ADD, who was also incredible naïve and overly-excited about everything in life. While it did not kill the pain inside, it allowed for me to lead a simple existence, one of no true consequence. That is what I wanted, for when I left this world, I wanted no one to remember me. Of course, that would be impossible, seeing as I had been living with Zim… I mean, _Master_ for seven years now. Also, I was sure his _little friend_ Dib would notice if I were not around. Thinking of him made me think of his pretty sister, the scary girl with the violet hair. She had been so beautiful. The best moment of my life had been with her, when she danced with me. Ah, the memories…

That was one of the few happy moments I had ever had, and thinking about it awoke the rest of my memories. Luckily, I stopped myself along my train of thought before many of the bad ones flooded my brain. It had been seven years, seven miserable years of unbearable life. It needs to end, it has to end. It must end today; it must end now.

I wanted to shrug that thought off, as I had so many times before, but I could not. I just could not. Today was different; I did not know why, but it was. It seemed that for once a decision had been made, and so I forced myself to act upon it. It would be an early Christmas present to myself, and what a lovely one it would be.

I let the memories of my miserable life flash before my eyes, as fast and as slow as they wanted. When I found no more to view, I closed my eyes; however, I reopened them seconds later. I wanted to see this happen. I did not want to shy away from it, for I did not fear it. I briefly wondered if I should call out to Zim, to tell him to come watch this happen—to watch him lose his only companion, and the closest thing he had ever had to a friend. Nonetheless, I decided against it, as I probably would not get to see much of his face during the incident anyway.

I briefly closed my cyan blue eyes for the last time, giving myself enough time to prepare for what I was about to do. I opened them again, and stared straight ahead. I kept my vision in focus, not allowing my eyes to glaze over in blissful relief like I wanted to. I then activated the function in my wiring by thought.

And then I self-destructed.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Existence

I suppose I now owe you an explanation for that drastic action. The best way to do that is to return to the beginning of my story—the beginning of my existence—for it was one of the main reasons why I was who I was, and why I did what I did.

~(*)~

It all began on Conventia, at the Great Assigning for Operation Impending Doom II. I did not exist for the actual assigning, but I heard about it vaguely later on. It had been the assigning of the Invaders, an elite branch of the Irken military, to the planets they would conquer. While I do not know this for sure, I can safely assume that Zim only got assigned a planet through desperate begging and obnoxious pleas. That was how he always got what he wanted. However, as I said before, I know that he was never really considered an Invader by the Tallest, nor any Irken for that matter. While I eventually figured it out through the Tallest's obvious loathing expressions and their lack of enthusiasm for his "mission," the first time I actually noticed it was when he received a large package that was labeled: "To: Zim." Had Zim been a real Invader, it would have been labeled: "To: _Invader_ Zim." However, I had not paid much attention to that detail at the time, seeing as the package contained a Megadoomer. But as I continued to notice the Tallest's behavior towards him, that label slipped back into my mind, and it became one of the first pieces of evidence I had for my theory.

Anyways, back to my story. Despite it all, Zim was still assigned a planet, whose name he later discovered was Earth. After receiving their assignments, all of the Invaders were given a Standard Issue Information Retrieval unit, also called a SIR unit. These robots do exactly what their name implies: gather information; although I did hear Zim later mention that they could also be used as a thermos. They also do any other tasks that help their masters with their mission. However, to summarize what they are in one word, they are robots. They are about the height of a human toddler when standing, and they have silver bodies and red eyes. Every Invader received one, as they provided vital assistance to their masters. Even Zim got one; however, his was different. His was me.

I am no normal SIR unit. In fact, I prefer to think of myself as a completely different entity. I am unique. I have feelings and a personality, even if it is a fake and shallow one that I use to hide my true self. Then again, I guess that makes me even more complex, and therefore more individualistic. If I can create a fake personality for my true self to hide behind, I must be an intelligent, unique life form, with free will and a mind of my own. Indeed, the only way I survived through life for seven years was by telling myself that. Even though it might have just seemed like a lifeline for most of my existence, I stood by that statement until the day I died. During my life, I was a living entity, and nobody could take that truth away from me.

However, that had not been the intention of the Tallest when they made me. They had not meant to create such a unique being. All they had known was that they did not want to give Zim a fully-operational SIR unit, seeing as his "mission" was a lie. So, they made me out of scraps of metal that they got from a garbage can. Purple, or at least I think it was him, put some random nick-knacks from his pocket into my head, and then threw me on the ground in front of Zim. I waited several moments before getting up, even though I was already awake. I had been hoping that they would think I was not operation, and would cast me aside to be left in peace.

I actually awoke sometime during my assembly. I did still retain some aspects and equipment of SIR units, allowing me to have knowledge of their kind. I quickly discovered what I was designed to look like, but I knew that I was different than the rest of them. I knew that I was not supposed to express emotions, or to even be capable of feeling them, for that matter. Still, I already felt miserable and sad. How could I not be? I was made from garbage and thrown together in a minute's time. I was not built with any real expectations in mind. I was only made to uphold a lie created by some moronic rulers, who's only claim to power was their height. I meant nothing to them. They only saw me as a tool they could use for their benefit.

The moment I realized I was different, I knew that I had to dispose of the label of a SIR unit. That is why when I stood up and looked at Zim, I said, "GIR, reporting for duty!" I made sure to keep the name close enough to SIR, so as not to cause suspicion.

Now that I think about, it seems strange that I was created for Zim, a person whom I hated my whole life. I guess I really should have thanked him; for without him, I never would have been alive. I know that I should at least not hate him. Despite all of the yelling and trouble he gave me during my life, he did keep me. I was the little misfit who destroyed and tampered with everything, who was so loud and irksome. I can honestly say that I am surprised that he did not kick me out of the base or blow me up at some point.

But at the same time, I lived a horrid, miserable existence. Why should I thank anyone for creating me, if that was how I had to live my entire life? Not to mention, sometimes I wish he had just destroyed me or kicked me out, for living with an incompetent idiot like him just made my death wish even stronger. Indeed, I shall forget gratitude, for misery is more abundant.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: Anger and Allies

Now that you know how I began my existence, you can more easily comprehend why I terminated my own life. However, to fully understand the reasons behind my action, I must show you the development of my depression.

~(*)~

After the Great Assigning, it was time for Zim to begin his "mission." He and I had to fly in his old Voot Cruiser to Earth without any directions. In fact, I am almost sure our flight was as long as it was—six months, to be exact—simply because he had no idea where he was going. Anyways, during this _ridiculously_ long flight, I had to find a way to entertain myself. That turned out to be the easiest part of the flight. Within the first minute of our journey, I had found the source of my amusement: singing "The Doom Song," a song that I had made up on the spot. At first, I had done it to keep my mind off of my sadness; but when I noticed that it infuriated Zim, I decided to keep singing it for as long as I possibly could. Since I was a robot, I did not have to worry about breathing, nor did I need to stop singing for things like food and water; so, I managed to keep the song going for the entire length of the trip, with my desire to annoy Zim propelling me. By the end of our journey, Zim was ready to strangle me. Indeed, he almost did; but right when he started to reach out for my neck, Earth materialized in front of our window shield.

It was on this journey that I realized how amusing it was to anger Zim. Considering that we had only just met, I had not yet harbored a grudge against him. Nonetheless, enraging him took my mind off of the looming feeling of sadness within myself. It was getting stronger every day, and I was starting to fear that it would push me towards death, which at this time I still feared. I was determined that I could fix myself, and that death would only come when I felt I had served my purpose in life—whatever that was. Still, I knew one thing for sure: my purpose was not to destroy Earth. Anyone could do that, but I was unique; therefore, I had to be destined for greater things. However, I would have time to figure out my destiny later. For now, to help me stay alive, I decided I would continue doing little things to anger Zim.

However, soon after we landed on Earth and set up our base, I realized that Zim was a horrible person. He was arrogant, narcissistic, and just plain obnoxious. He treated me disrespectfully; to be honest, he treated me like dirt. He constantly yelled at me, scolded me, demanded things of me. I understand that I was his minion, that I was expected to help him and assist him; but he had no reason to treat me the way he did. Even though I did annoy him, that did not give him the right to treat me like shit. Besides, we still barely knew each other. Perhaps I was a sweet, nice, obedient robot, and he just had not given me the chance to express my true demeanor—although none of those things were true. Still, who was he the wiser? Nonetheless, I could not fathom how I was going to continue living with this being.

This agony did not last long—well, it did, but I found a way to make it better. I soon realized that Zim hated almost anything peppy or cheerful or fun. He also hated—with a passion—children. I first noticed both of these when I met Keef, Zim's so-called "bestest friend." While Keef's days were numbered, he revealed to me those aforementioned truths, and he taught me an important lesson: I could not simply annoy Zim. I must have something backing up my actions, otherwise he would grow bored and just kill me. The best thing for making sense of my actions seemed to be my personality.

I had already been in the process of finding a way to bury my depression deep within myself, as it had only progressed since we had arrived on Earth. Also, I already knew that I loved to piss Zim off. However, when I realized that children had the same effect on him, I realized that if I adopted a childlike personality, I could accomplish all my goals in one fell swoop. To convince him that my personality was genuine and not just another joke to annoy him with, I would have to do and say insane things, so that he thought my insanity was the reason behind my personality. Also, if he thought I was insane, then he assume I had no control over myself; thus, I would be excused from punishment and some blame for my actions. It was an ingenious plan, and it never once failed me.

However, after a short time, I got tired of just annoying Zim. I had done a lot of little things around the base to anger him, but never had I actually tried to foil one of his plans. However, before I transitioned into foiling, I thought about what I was doing. Zim—no matter how awful a person he was, and no matter how much I hated him—was still my master. If I purposely messed up one of his attempts to conquer Earth, he would destroy me. He might even have me self-destruct, just so he could watch my death for his cruel amusement. Not to mention, I would also be committing treason against the most powerful empire in the universe. If I had been making this decision later in my life, these factors would have not had any weight in my choice. As my waves of depression surged over me more and more throughout my life, I stopped caring whether or not I was alive. However, as I said earlier, death was something I was not searching for at this time. Therefore, I could not directly foil Zim's plots; but I could help others do so.

The first day we landed on Earth, someone discovered that we were aliens. A human boy named Dib whom Zim met at Skool had instantly suspected Zim as such. In fact, he tried to capture Zim the first time he met him. When I decided I could not directly foil Zim's plots, the memories of that first day flashed through my mind. Dib was the only human who saw through Zim's disguise—a fact which still amazes me to this day, considering how awful that disguise was. He was the only one who recognized Zim as an actual threat. He was the only one who stood in Zim's way of achieving world domination.

However, I did not admire Dib because he was more perceptive than other humans; I admired Dib because I understood him. He may be a human, and I a robot, but I can still understand him. He was the victim, not the victor. He was the tortured, not the torturer. He did not have enemies—well, except for Zim, but that was different. He was everyone else's enemy. Zim was the only one who treated him like a threat, instead of someone to be threatened. Dib led a hard life, with no friends, no family, no one who cared about him. Just like me.

So, just like that, I started a secret alliance with Dib. He never actually knew about it, as I never told him that I wanted to be allies with him. Nonetheless, I still considered it an alliance, since we both shared one goal. We both wanted to foil all of Zim's plots, because neither one of us wanted Earth to be conquered. Not to mention, we both harbored a deep hatred of Zim, which was enough of a similarity to bond us.

Now that we were allies, I decided that I would just help Dib with his own foiling of Zim's schemes. Most of the time, I did very simple tasks, such as helping him infiltrate Zim's base. However, there were times when Dib was not around, and I had to do things on my own. I usually resorted to infuriating Zim as I had in our earliest days on Earth, rather than blatantly ruining his plans. Once, Dib even abandoned our alliance while he tried to study "real science." I tried to convince him to continue hunting Zim, which he eventually did; whether or not my pleas affected that decision, I will never know, but I like to believe they did.

Nonetheless, it is not like Zim really needed anyone to ruin his plans. Dib may have been the only human to threaten his schemes, but one other being also managed to be a threat to them as well: Zim himself. While I will admit that Zim was intelligent and dreamed up some good evil schemes, his personality usually led to his own demise. He was too arrogant, which often caused him to also be ignorant. These both led to him often times ruining his own plans. And I suppose that that was a better punishment for Zim than either Dib or I could have come up with.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thank you to all of you who have favorited, followed, and/or reviewed this story! It means so much to me! You guys are amazing!

Chapter Four: Midnight Thoughts

After allying with Dib, the days became very repetitive and monotonous. Most days, Zim would go to Skool for about six hours, while I would stay behind and examine his latest evil plan for vulnerabilities. Every afternoon, he would return home—well, I should just call it "the base," for that _freaky_ house was certainly not a home—and try to initiate the plan. Then, Dib would come in and stop it, and I would help in some way or another, usually by tampering with equipment or ignoring any duties that Zim assigned me. However, during the sweet six hours Zim was out of my life every day, I became accustomed to doing a lot of thinking…

Which, when I reflect on it, probably was not the greatest idea. Whenever I was bored or had grown tired of studying Zim's plans for flaws, I would sit on the pink living room couch, lean my head back against the soft cushions, and sink into my own thoughts. The main theme of these was my sadness, of course. As I said earlier, in the beginning, I did not consider myself to be depressed. However, after a year or so of living with my "condition"—I think I will call it that from now on, for I did not simply_ feel_ sad, but rather I _lived _in sadness—I finally realized that it was truly depression. Anyways, whenever I had these "thought sessions," this overwhelming wave of anguish washed over me, and I quickly found myself drowning in it. My only life preserver seemed to be questioning this feeling. I would wonder why I felt this sadness, and where it had come from.

"_Why was I born sad? Can one really be born sad? No, one cannot. But I was not born."_

By asking myself these questions, I felt like I was undermining my condition. This usually helped me push the tide out, making the waves much more manageable. However, there was always one question that I could never get out of my head. It was the question that I could never truly dismiss. It was the question that threatened my existence. It was the question that I wanted the answer to the most; yet all along, I had known the answer—I just had not wanted to admit it.

How do I fix myself?

It took me seven years to realize it, but now I know—I was never broken. And you cannot fix something that is not broken. Then again, you cannot always fix something that is

broken….

There was one other thought that roamed around my head every once in a while that I could not ignore. It usually came in a quick flash. It would race across my mind, this fleeting presence. Then it would rush away again, as if standing in the center of my mind for too long would poison it, just as it seemed to do to my other thoughts. This thought was, dare I say, beautiful, and it was the only one that ever got me the closest to happiness. I could never quite feel it fully within myself, no matter how hard I tried. Nonetheless, I knew it was supposed to make me feel happy. I knew it was a good thing.

This thought was Gaz.

Gaz was—well, I guess she still is—the younger sister of Dib. But she was not important to me because she was the sister of my ally. She was important to me because she was the most beautiful girl in the world. She had gorgeous, short hair, with lovely bangs that almost appeared

spiky. Her hair was a deep purple, and it always made me think of the word "midnight" when I saw it. Her hair represented her personality quite well, as did her signature skull necklace. She was a twisted, scary, almost sadistic girl. She hated humanity and the Earth; also, she did not seem to care about alien invasions or even the prospect of impending doom. All she cared about were video games.

The irony of the whole situation was unbelievable. I had fallen for a girl who was very similar to the master that I hated. But, that is life for you—it likes to mess with your mind. Especially mine.

As I am sure you could guess, I met Gaz through Dib. He had been, once again, trying to sneak into Zim's base. However, Zim had captured him and teleported him into our space station—well, I should say _Zim's_ space station. I was just allowed inside of it. Anyways, Gaz had come over to the base to get Dib so she could go out for pizza. RoboMom answered the door for her, but Gaz was impatient. She pushed the robot back into the house and walked in. I was sitting on the couch when she arrived, pretending to be guarding the house like Zim had instructed me to do. Even though I was not supposed to let anyone in, I could not destroy her, for Gaz was not just anyone. I fell for her the moment I saw her. Those gorgeous purple locks, her arresting brown eyes. My breath was taken away by her—if I actually breathed, that is. Nonetheless, even if I had not fallen in love with this intruder, when do I ever do what Zim tells me to?

She demanded to know where her brother was. I lead her right to him, or rather to the teleporter which would take her to where he was. On the entire elevator ride down to the machine, I had been sneaking glances at Gaz. I tried to be discreet about it, but I failed miserably. Every time I looked at her, my eyes would get big, my mouth would curve upwards into a big smile, and I would let out a sigh of admiration. While most girls would have been flattered, Gaz was angered by my actions, and every time I did it, she would give me death glares whilst growling at me. But I did not care. She was too gorgeous and lovely and perfect for me not to stare.

And then she was gone. Once the elevator reached its destination, she immediately demanded to know which teleporter her brother and my master had gone through. I told her, not wanting to make her even angrier by withholding this information. Then she teleported out of sight.

I hardly saw her after that. There was only one other encounter between us during my first year on Earth, but it was by far our best meeting ever. She was in the base, as Zim had brought both her and Dib there to help him stop his enemy Tak from destroying Earth. He and my ally had headed out to Tak's base, leaving Gaz and me here. She was dreadfully bored, especially since we did not have any video games in the base; so, she reluctantly agreed to help us save the world. While I am sure she would have preferred to have seen the Earth destroyed, I like to think this was a moment where, for just a few minutes, I got to see the humanity in her.

Anyways, she and the base's computer devised a plan to remotely control Tak's SIR unit Mimi, using me as the controller. I was delegated this job since I was also a SIR unit, even if I refused to identify myself as such. Let us just say that I was chosen because I was "special." Nonetheless, as I pondered what I should make Mimi do, an idea came into my head. It was a powerful idea, or, rather, it was an idea that represented power. For once in my life, I could have control over something other than the unraveling of Zim's plots. For once in my life, I could do something to make myself genuinely happy. For once in my life, I felt like the master, not the slave.

As I considered my idea, Gaz demanded that I start doing things. As I looked up at her, another idea came into my head. Perhaps I had more than one chance at gaining power today. And I was determined to seize as many of them as I could.

"Only if you dance with me!"

Now, forcing someone to dance with you does not seem like a very powerful demand; in fact, it seems rather juvenile and silly. However, a dance was the way to make some sort of weird progression in my "relationship" with Gaz, while also messing with Mimi. Gaz naturally refused my request, but once she realized my persistence, she caved. She knew I was a key part in the plan that she and computer had come up with. She needed me—I suppose that that in and of itself was power. Just this once, being a SIR unit was beneficial to my well-being.

Gaz was not so much as dancing as jerking her limbs in different directions. It honestly looked rather painful to me, but she never complained about feeling any pain. But really, what fool would belief that Gaz would ever show signs of weakness? Anyways, after a while, the thoughts in my head of her and me, together, took over my mind. I could not control them, I could not shut them down. These were the waves that I could not push out. All I could do was let them wash over me, and, as it turned out, drown me.

In the "heat of the moment," as humans say, I kissed Gaz. I thought it would be more like the movies—romantic, sweet, warm, passionate; yet it was none if those things. I was a robot, and a robot kissing a human was never going to feel the same as a human kissing another human. I look back on it and feel foolish; but at the same time, I do not regret it. It may not have been what my expectations led me to desire, but it was still wonderful.

It only lasted for a few seconds, but Gaz acted like those were the worst seconds of her life. She quickly pried my small hands off of her face, then shoved me as far away from her as she could. And then she ran.

I would not see her again for nearly a year.

Was it worth it: a small, meaningless, cold, uncaring kiss, for the loss of any chance at a relationship with her? Not that I ever really had a chance, but all the power I had had that night— controlling someone else's body, whether it be Mimi or Gaz's—had gotten to my head. I had felt invincible. Even now, I still retain a bit of that feeling. Gaz showed me the beauty of being in control. Perhaps I thought maybe, now that I know what control feels like, I could use it in my fight against my condition. And perhaps that is why I held on for as long as I did.

These were the better encounters that I had with Gaz. The later ones were much less successful, and not nearly as "nice" as these. Nonetheless, I never stopped loving Gaz. I loved her from the second I saw her all the way until my final day. In the end, the thought of seeing her one more time was one of the main things keeping me alive. I wonder why I did not think about her the day I left...


End file.
